


Four Days

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-06
Updated: 2011-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim takes care of Bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Days

Bones stirred when Jim sat down next to him on the sofa. “That time, huh?” he murmured without opening his eyes.

“Yeah.”

Bones struggled to sit up, but Jim placed a hand on his chest. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I got it.” As Bones sank back against the cushions, Jim opened the medkit. The hypospray was already loaded with the proper dosage, so all he had to do was administer it. A fairly simple task, all things considered, but one he took very seriously. As gently as he could, he pushed up a sleeve of Bones’s oversized gray hoodie. He dabbed at his shoulder with a sterile wipe, then reached for the hypospray.

Bones opened his eyes, and their gazes met. Jim flashed him a brief, reassuring smile. “Only four more days,” he soothed as he pressed the hypospray against Bones’s shoulder.

Bones didn’t so much as flinch, but Jim brushed a kiss over the injection site anyway, before turning to wipe off the hypo and put it away quickly. Once that was done, he stretched out on the sofa beside Bones, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close as the medication began to work its way through his system.

Spock Prime had warned them that the cure for xenopolycythemia was not pleasant, and Jim had said he didn’t care – seeing Bones in pain for a couple of weeks was far preferable to watching him dwindle and fade. That was certainly true, but damn. It was so hard seeing him like this: sickly pale, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw rigid, a film of sweat glistening on his brow. Jim stroked away the hair that stuck to his forehead, kissed his neck, and murmured whatever words of encouragement came to him.

“I’m here. I have you. It’s okay.”

Bones drew a shuddering breath and nodded.

“I’m here. I love you.” He pressed kisses all over Bones’s face: against his temples, in the hollowed-out cheeks, over the crease between his eyebrows. “You’re almost there, almost better.”

He knew it wasn’t as simple as that; even after the medication stopped, Bones had to get his strength back, had to gain back the weight and muscle mass he’d lost while Spock Prime wracked his memories for the cure he’d discovered over a century ago, in another universe. It would still be some time before he could return to the _Enterprise_ , never mind resume active duty. But it was good to have a clearly defined goal. In four days, he could stop giving Bones these injections. And then they’d be one step closer to normal.

Then maybe he could stop spending so many nights lying awake, watching Bones sleep, listening to his exhausted breathing.

Not that he minded.

“I love you.” His lips were still on Bones’s neck, at the pulse point below his jaw.

“Mm.” That was a whimper, but it didn’t sound strained.

Relieved, Jim tugged at the zipper pull of Bones’s hoodie. It came open easily, and Jim kissed the exposed skin. He ran his hands lightly over Bones’s sides, soothing away the last of the tremors. Another few minutes, and Bones lay still against the sofa cushions; the only indication of his wakefulness was the hand curled in Jim’s flannel shirt.

“It’s okay,” Jim said again, now that it actually was, or getting to be. “Okay.”

They would have to get up at some point. _He_ would have to get up, at any rate, so he could grab a blanket from somewhere. The sweat on Bones’s body was drying, and soon he would start shivering. There was no chance of a relapse now, but he was still susceptible to chills.

Jim started to rise, but the hand in his shirt clenched. “Not yet,” Bones whispered, his breath tickling the shell of Jim’s ear. “S’nice like this.”

“I’ll be right back,” Jim started to promise, but Bones shook his head.

“Let you go in a minute.” His voice was weak; his grip on Jim was not. “In a minute.”

 _I would never let you go,_ thought Jim as he reached for Bones’s other hand so he could press a kiss to the strong pulse at his wrist.

9/14/10


End file.
